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Indulge me just for a second.

9 Aug

Charles, my sweet and cantankerous little dog, did something so precious that I just can’t keep it to myself any longer. This may officially make me a crazy dog mom, and I will happily accept the label.

This past Sunday morning, Charles brought my mom flowers. Yes, you read that correctly… he brought her flowers. He went outside and dragged them up from the garden, through the dog gate, up the stairs and planted them firmly inside her bedroom door. He then proceeded to sit by them and waited for her. And, as anyone would, she took a picture.

Come on, it’s cute, right? I heart that little man. With my whole heart. Even if he looks like he has a lazy eye and is in desperate need of a bath. Maybe next time he’ll pick some flowers for me?

 

 

Charles, the three month update.

18 Nov

is much better than a sick Charles

It’s been about three months since Charles became frankenpuppy. After seeing him suffer so much after surgery I wasn’t at all sure that I’d made the right decision. However, I’m happy to report that he is doing GREAT. His bile acid (the bad things) are going down and he is (from a medical standpoint) slowly improving. From my standpoint he’s a whole new dog.

In July he could only walk a few blocks before pooping out, now he’s racing around with Christian and I on our runs. He’s eating more, he’s running more, he’s humping more — he’s acting like a whole new dog! And, I couldn’t be happier!

The only down sides we’ve noticed are his lack of snuggling and a new tendency stink up the room — at least his dog farts give us (mainly me) something to laugh about.

Frankenpuppy.

31 Aug

Charles survived his surgery… only to come back to me as Frankenpuppy. He had a gnarly 3.5″ incision with rough looking stitches covering his abdomen — all the way from his sternum to his man business. Take a peek:

From his sternum to his man business.

I was a little shocked when I picked him up that 1.) his incision was GINORMOUS and 2.) that he was so out of it. Each call from the dr. and his student made it seem as if Charles was up and running around, eating and making friends with everyone. Not so. He was acting like a tiny sickling that needed constant care.

I got one with dogs on it!

Fast forward about a week and the little man is living in onesies, so that he doesn’t lick/chew out his stitches. This wardrobe choice has also lead to a few wonderful potty problems from wetting his onesie to having some poo trouble in the onesie. He’s in desperate need of a bath. Desperate.

I took him to get his stitches out on Saturday and he decided the night before to help the dr.’s out a bit. He took out the top 1/3 by himself. The only reason I let him out of his onsie was because my mom kept saying, ALL WEEK, “He’s just licking, he leaves them alone except for some licking. He won’t tear them out”. Well she was wrong.

Nonetheless, he seems to be doing well. I’m jamming his Amoxicillin pills down twice a day in addition to his normal medication and prescription kibble routine. I’ll keep you posted, but so far so good.

P.S. I forgot to mention that I caught him eating his own poop. I can barely look at him. Maybe the antibiotics give it some extra spice? Here’s to hoping it was a one time thing. (crossing fingers now)

Sir Charles.

16 Aug

This is my baby dog

I took Charles up to the CSU vet hospital for some puppy surgery today. I believe I’ve mentioned his liver ailment here before, but I haven’t been doing many updates because it’s a bit of a downer. I took Chuck in for his annual appointment at the end of June only to learn that his blood work was extremely off — giving him a time line of about 6 months. I cried a lot. I found out at work, spent the rest of the day in and out of tears with my door shut. I figured that was better than having my co-workers question why I had disappeared and an ogre had moved into the room I usually work in.

Crying isn’t a pretty endeavor for me.

All I knew was that I couldn’t watch my sweet Charles suffer through seizures and other neurological symptoms while there was something I could be doing about it. So after a month and a half of “thinking about it”,  I finally took him get all fixed up. The funny thing is, I’m scared I made the wrong decision.

The doctor was nice (or vet dr?), he seemed like he knew what he was talking about… and they let me leave Charles with his little stuffed frog. I have the overwhelming fear that he won’t make it out of surgery, that I won’t see him again. In reality the bigger worry is that he’ll come out of surgery and begin having violent seizures that won’t go away. That’s the 1/10 result. Scares the shit out of me.

I snuggled him last night, played frog with him this morning and told him I loved him and to be trooper tomorrow. I know I’m going to be an anxious mess until I get the after surgery report… but here’s to Charles getting better. To real dog food, swimming in his dog pool, long walks, fetch in the park and snuggles in the winter. I sure do love that little guy.

P.S. Have I mentioned that Charles is passionate about corn on the cob? Oh, that and he’s also a pro at getting every last kernel off!

My dog loves corn on the cob

The ol’ flop and sleep.

15 May

Sometimes I restrict the amount of time talk about Charles (aka Chuck, Charlie, Chuckles, Scoot or other spur of the moment, sporadic names) because I don’t want to be a crazy dog lady. I don’t think I am…but I might be and that fear keeps his travails and adventures under wraps most of the time. But, eh, I heart my dog. So deal with it.

On that note, Charles is a crazy sleeper. He sleeps with me most nights, so I would know. Occasionally he’ll curl up at the end of the bed and stay that way the entire night — rare but it does happen. Most nights he’s up and wiggling about. He’ll toss, turn and scratch until he’s happy. If it’s a really rough night he’ll get up, move around and then throw his 8 lb. body against my back. Just thrash and toss to make sure that I know he’s not a happy camper. He’s really precious. I swear.

Amongst his crazy sleeping habits are his crazy sleeping positions. With his liver problem he is often exhausted to the point of being floppy. You can contort him about like a rag doll and he will barely open his eyes. He will let you do as you will. This being the case, he falls asleep and happily remains in some of the most bizarre places and positions. Because I love my dog and want to share his joy with the world, I (the ever generous picture sharer) am here to document his greatest moments. Tada:

Told you they were good.

Charlie's too tired to move!

Can't quite pull his last leg into the bed.

Naptime for Charlie.

Between a pillow and a soft spot.

Charlie sleeping on his back. Sort of.

Half-n-half. Can't quite pick a position, so he just combines them.

Charlie stuffed in the couch.

Wedged between the side of the couch and the cushion...

Charlie likes to nap on his back.

Feeling floppy.

Magazines = warmth during naptime.

Taking cover for his nap. Under a magazine that is.

Isn’t he precious? I thought so too.

Charles with a healthy helping of pie.

16 Sep

My dog, the precious little jerk that he is… hasn’t been feeling so hot lately. I don’t believe I’ve mentioned this before, but if I have you get to hear it all over again. And you’re going to like it. Lucky you.

c

About a year after I got this wonderful, urine filled darling he starting acting very lethargic, not eating and there for a while he gave up moving at all. I took him to the CSU vet hospital (one of my least favorite places seeing as after only an hour they brutally begin to remove your soul from your body). After extensive blood testing, about $1,000 and 3 conversations referencing “putting him down” we were told that he has a “Portacaval Liver Shunt”. I’m not a doctor (or vet), and since I can’t stand the site of blood or dealing with other’s/dogs bodies/functions I don’t think I ever will be. BUT, hearing the terms, “put him down”, “liver shunt”, “medication” etc. were more than enough to instill the fears of horrendous vet bills and extensive dog barf into my psyche.

To sustain his current physical condition he is currently on medication 3 times a day and presciption dog food. Protein free of course because with this little diagnosis and medical regimen comes the “No Protein EVER Rule”. What kind of life is that for a dog? No protein? No bologna, american cheese, chicken livers, or turkey gibblets? Not sure I’d want to stick around long either!

Now, knowing all of this, please try to picture me explaining this to my 74 year old father. It went a little something like this:

Me: Dad… Charlie, your beloved grand-dog has an un-curable liver shut and can NEVER, may I repeat NEVER have any protein or he will flop down, seize up and die in front of your very eyes. Got it?

Dad: What? What!!?? How can this be? No protein? He’s a dog. Do you get that? HE. IS. A. DOG. Dog’s need protein to live. What will he eat?!? This is no life for a dog. Poor dog. Poor, poor dog.

Me: Are we clear then? No protein… today, tomorrow, EVER!

Dad: Yeah, yeah I got it.

So after that joy of a conversation I assumed the issue had been put to bed. Good night protein issue. But I was wrong. Boy oh boy was I wrong. Did you know that beans don’t have protein? Oh and neither does pie. Pie is especially good for dogs with liver problems. “Helps them grow hair on their chests”… according to my father. I swear.

So between dosings of pie, beans, and protein laden dog food… Charles has been on the out-and-out these past few days. Lots of sleep, no energy… oh and that big tumble ALL the way down the stairs. It sounded something like “thud, thud, thud, clunk, thud, thud, thud, thud, bam, thud, whimper, thud, boom”. Yes, Charles fell all the way down the stairs. Apparently when he gets protein all the toxins go straight to his brain. If/when he dies, I swear I’m going to put “Death by pie” on his tombstone.

Just can’t take him anywhere.

18 Jun

Charlie got into a brawl at “Four Paws” Dog Park today. That’s what you get for leaving your mini-blue squeaky ball out for other dogs to steal. Idiot. Maybe if he’d really “catch on” to fetch we wouldn’t have these issues.

I fight with that little jerk everyday and now he has to go make a show of himself. I think he’ll be joining buddy (our three legged dog friend) in his boycott of “Four Paws”, so in other words he’s grounded.

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